


To Move a Body

by someinstant



Series: Fixer (Or, Ianto Jones Can Do Anything) [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someinstant/pseuds/someinstant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's more fun for <i>me</i>," Ianto said, "if I get to do the managing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Move a Body

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually one short story in a loose collection of stories all centered around Ianto Jones. They're not in any particular chronological order and they don't really connect with each other in any meaningful way-- except that they're all about Ianto, and how he can do anything.
> 
> In fact, that's sort of the title for the series.
> 
> **Fixer  
> (_or, Ianto Jones Can Do Anything_.)**
> 
> And this is the first part. There are four more to follow. If you've any suggestions as to where I might want to post this, I'd certainly appreciate them.
> 
>  
> 
> _Disclaimer_: God knows they're not mine; I'm not even British.  
> _Spoilers:_ General mid-season two setting, but nothing specific.  
> _Pairings:_ Canon compliant, but not central.  
> _Word Count:_ 1500
> 
> _A/N:_ Seriously, though: not British. If you see an elevator or a cell phone or any other linguistically improbable mishaps, please please please let me know.

"What do you think I'd have to do," Gwen wondered, a bag of Thai takeaway swinging wildly at her side as they walked back across the Plass, "to convince Jack to let me have the rest of the afternoon off?"

"Got plans, have you?" Ianto kept pace an arm's length away and waited for the inevitable peanut sauce disaster to occur. "You might take off your top," he suggested. "Produce a dead relative. Become severely allergic to lemongrass."

Gwen grinned. "Right. All three at once, as soon as we get back. And I might not even have to lie about the dead relative," she added. "Rhys has a great-aunt Susan who's ready to pop off any day now. Or at least that's what she tells us whenever we visit."

Ianto nodded. "Hypochondriac aunts are useful like that. And much less trouble than the other two options," he conceded, "as I suppose taking your top off would be counterproductive to escape, Jack being Jack. And hives are a little difficult to fake on short notice."

"Speaking from experience, are we?"

"Oh, yes," Ianto agreed. "On both counts."

Gwen laughed and did a hop-skip-slide across the cobblestones, the bag of takeaway blurring into a citrus- and peanut-scented arc beside her as she spun. Ianto followed more slowly, hands in his pockets, equally reluctant to hurry back to the underground gloom of the Hub. It really was a lovely day: deep blue skies with the odd punctuation of white clouds and buckets of sunshine that must have got lost on the way to Barcelona.

"It just seems ridiculous," Gwen said, "to have to spend a gorgeous day like this buried down _there_, watching the Rift on the off-chance that some sort of-- I don't know-- alien _wallaby_ with a laser strapped to its head decides to colonize Earth at half past one on a Friday afternoon."

"Mm," Ianto hummed absently. "That's often the trouble with alien marsupials." He pulled out his mobile and flipped it open. "They've no respect for weather reports or weekends," he said, rapidly pressing a few buttons. Gwen huffed a laugh.

"Look," Ianto said as they came around the corner, "if you really want the rest of the day off, take it. Leave early. Tosh seems to think the Rift should be quiet for the next few days-- take Rhys and get out of town for the weekend," he said. His mobile squawked as he frowned at the screen. "Go gather ye rosebuds while ye may."

"And what about you lot?" Gwen asked. "If I'm going to skive off, the rest of the class should, too."

"I don't think Tosh or Owen have much on the docket," Ianto said, still rapidly pressing buttons, "but I've got a pressing appointment with the late Mr. Cecil Algers this afternoon that I can't put off." He pressed a final few keys and then closed the mobile with a satisfied _snick_. "Poor Mr. Algers is meant to have an accident tomorrow morning, and it's going to take me a little time to shift him into place and do the requisite forensic nonsense at the site."

"See if you can get Owen to help you," Gwen suggested, leaning up against the wall of the tourist office. "He's the one who found him; seems only fair he should help you with the body dump."

Ianto brushed a bit of the wall next to Gwen with his handkerchief, and then carefully leaned back into the shade. "Eh," he said, "I don't mind doing it. Algers isn't heavy-- I can manage him easily enough. Besides," he added, "Owen's rubbish at getting rid of his footprints, and he sits and complains about the dangers of fresh air while I do all the fiddly bits myself."

"Very true," Gwen said. "Well. At least you'll be out in the sunshine?"

"A regular holiday," Ianto agreed, smiling. "Hauling a body up a public trail whilst wearing a dead man's shoes."

"Ghoulish," Gwen commented, squinting into the light reflected off the bay.

Ianto shrugged. "I suppose. Necessary, though, so it's not worth fussing about." He frowned, tugging gently at his collar. "It's not half warm today," he mused. "I wish it weren't."

"I'm fairly certain we could manage to restrain ourselves if you felt the need to remove your jacket," Gwen said dryly. "Well. Not Jack, perhaps, but he's not particularly restrained in any case."

"Thank you," Ianto said. "I'll take that under advisement. But I was thinking of our esteemed Mr. Algers, actually. The timetable Jack's settled on puts his unfortunate demise at midmorning tomorrow, but if this heat keeps on for the next few days, he'll defrost a bit more quickly than I'd planned." He rolled his shoulders, and easily pushed himself off from the wall. "Which will throw off the decomposition rate, and we can't have that," he said. "It's not good for business when a corpse turns out to be three weeks old and the person in question has only gone missing two days before." Ianto pursed his lips in disapproval. "I'll have to see what I can do."

"And what will you do against the weather, Ianto Jones?" Gwen teased. "Puff up your cheeks and blow down a blizzard?"

Ianto considered his options. "Might do," he said. "I'm fairly certain that we've a gadget in the archives that can manipulate microclimates for short periods of time. I'll have to check, but it might do the trick if we keep it within relatively normal parameters."

Gwen blinked. "Normal parameters."

Ianto worried his lower lip with his teeth. "August's a bit too early for an unexpected snowfall, I suppose. But a light frost after dark might not be out of the question," he mused, idly working out the relative decomposition rates of bodies at various ambient temperatures.

Gwen shook her head. "You're not half odd, Ianto," she said. "You do know that, yeah?"

"Yes," he said placidly. "I find it serves me rather well. Now," he said, shaking himself out of his reverie and taking the bag of Thai from Gwen, "If you would allow me." He opened the door to the tourist office and waved her inside. "The others will be wondering what took us."

"Yes, of course. Back to work it is." Gwen sighed and led the way into the lift. It was dark and cool inside the Hub's entry hall, as always, and the air smelled familiarly damp and metallic, with a tang of something sharp and bitter and somehow alien. Ianto pressed the button, and the doors began to close.

"Right," Gwen said, coming to a decision. It really _was_ too nice a day to spend at the Hub. She straightened her shoulders. "Ianto, would you mind holding off on that blizzard for a bit? At least until I can convince Jack to let me escape for the day."

"I think you'll find that's not necessary," Ianto smirked. He held up his mobile. "It's already done. I've told Jack you broke a crown while we were waiting on the takeaway, and you're scheduled for an emergency appointment with your dentist in half an hour. Just keep your mouth closed and try to look annoyed."

"So I should stop and chat with Owen before I go to see Jack."

"That should do the trick, yes," Ianto agreed.

"You," Gwen declared, "are marvelous. There is _no way_ Jack pays you enough," she said, and kissed his cheek.

Ianto grinned. "On that, we most definitely agree. But that's not the whole of it, actually," he said, looking particularly pleased with himself. "As you're in such horrible pain, and I've Mr. Algers to dispose of and therefore can't possibly be expected to escort you to the dentist, Tosh has kindly volunteered to drive you over. Or will volunteer, with a little bit of nudging, at any rate." He pulled out his stopwatch, glancing at the time. "And if Owen's paid any attention to his text messages in the last ten minutes, he'll have just received an urgent message from his landlord regarding a burst pipe in his apartment. I imagine it will take the rest of the afternoon to sort out the mess." Ianto slipped the watch back in his pocked.

The lift chimed and the doors opened. "If all goes well," he said as they walked towards the vault door, "I should have you all out the door in under five minutes."

"Impressive," Gwen said. "A bit elaborate, though. Like one of those machines where a boot kicks a cat and it ends up frying an egg. You don't think Jack would've agreed if we had just asked him?"

Ianto moved to open the door. "Sure he would. But it's more fun for _me_," he said as the door rolled back, "if I get to do the managing."

"And what about you and Jack?" Gwen teased. "Trying to get him alone, are you?"

"If I were," Ianto said dryly, "I'd hardly need such elaborate subterfuge. Jack can stay to monitor the Rift, if he likes." He shrugged. "Or he can tag along and make a nuisance of himself while I dispose of Mr. Algers-- which is much more probable," he added, "given that he knows I prefer not to wear a jacket when moving corpses."

Gwen snorted. "One more thing, though," she said as they stepped through to the Hub.

Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Why'd we bother with takeaway if no one's going to be around to eat it?"

Ianto smiled. "It's a pretty day," he said. "I think Mr. Algers and Jack might appreciate a picnic."


End file.
